


Look to the Sky

by SoulJelly



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Death Rituals, Episode Tag, Ficlet, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Missing Scene, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23907973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulJelly/pseuds/SoulJelly
Summary: The night after Cally's death is a long one.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	Look to the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I got into _Blake's 7_ in a big way and had to write something.

They huddled around the fire in the deepening twilight, all of them still wide awake.

“What can we do?” asked Dayna. Her voice came out too loud, jolting the others; no one had spoken in some time.

“I already told you," came Avon's reply. "Sleep, and when it gets light head to the south.”

“I meant _right now_ ,” said Dayna. “For Cally. To say goodbye.”

Tarrant scoffed. “He knew what you meant, Dayna. It's almost as though he just doesn’t care.”

Avon's ability with words was outmatched by only one thing: his understanding of when _not_ to use them. Even in the gloom, the long, level look that Avon gave him cut into Tarrant more than any insult or jibe would have. His dark eyes glittered, heavy with... something that Tarrant couldn't place. Tarrant looked away first, allowing his gaze to be drawn to the lowly dancing flames. Vila glanced back and forth between them. Orac was on his lap and he wrapped his arms unconsciously around it.

Avon rolled onto his side. His back, facing them, may as well have been a wall.

The fire crackled.

“What did they do on Auron?” Vila never could sit with silence. "To send off their d- to say goodbye." His shoulders drew in. "I can't-- I can't think of her as--" What was the last thing he had said to her? In all of the chaos, he couldn't even remember.

Dayna reached out and placed a hand on his knee.

"I know. It's hard to believe that she's gone. She was a good woman. She made me feel welcome from the moment I met her."

Fondness flooded Vila's expression. "She was, wasn't she? Sometimes she even appreciated my genius, which is more than I can say for some of you." Avon ignored the invitation to quip and after a moment Vila cleared his throat and added, "and she played a mean game of Galactic Monopoly."

Tarrant made a small noise, opened and closed his mouth again with eyes firmly fixed on the fire, then tried again. "She was a valuable member of the crew. I've never really been good at--" he gestured vaguely, trailing off into nothing. He worried at his lower lip, vacant.

"Pretty ironic," said Vila, clinging to levity, "that the person best at cheering us all up about this sort of thing is the one we're all getting sad about."

Dayan leaned back on her elbows, head tilted to the sky. Whenever she beamed down to a strange new planet she only had to look up and remember that their ship was there ready to bring her home, reassuring and constant. The movement now was pure reflex and her brow furrowed as the reminder of all their losses stung afresh. "No Zen, now, either. Or the _Liberator_. As far as send-offs go, I have no idea what either of them would have wanted." She drew in breath sharply, the pain of it suddenly staggering. She had no more tears left, not since her father and sister had died, but losing everything twice in a lifetime was too much.

Snow crunched and a twig snapped. The shifting of weight. Avon turned towards them but his gaze was fixed in the distance, seeing nothing.

"On ancient Earth, it was an act of great ceremonial weight when one was buried at sea". He spoke in a low monotone. "As we are not at sea and Zen was not human, it is only a loose analogy, but some of you may take some sentimental comfort in the knowledge that he went down with this ship. An honourable death."

Vila opened his mouth. Dayna caught the motion and shook her head. Avon continued uninterrupted.

"As for Auron... the Auronar provided comfort to the dying in their final moments, repeating ceremonial mantras through their telepathic links. They did not believe in an afterlife as such, preferring instead to believe that their dead lived on through their loved ones, a memory never quite able to die due to the mental link they all shared."

Vila raised an eyebrow.

"Well, who knew you were a repository of information on alien cultures?" 

"Cally and I talked a little. When Gan--"

"Ah."

"As we are not telepaths, and as her--" the briefest catch in voice "--passing was so sudden, we could not hope to replicate the send-off she required. Consider it a state of affairs as unfortunate as our ruined ship."

Avon stood abruptly, skirting the edge of the fire and meeting the shadows at the camp's edge in a few short steps. His boots made sharp, crisp sounds of the untouched snow until at last they faded.

"Let him go," said Tarrant, before the others could move.

Dayna nodded.

"I suppose you're right. He's armed after all, and it's quiet enough to hear him if something happens."

"He's not quite right though, is he?" mused Vila. "I mean, we can't bounce telepathic soundbites around in our heads, but we can still _remember_ her. Keep that conversation going. Come to think of it, she'd probably be happy to see us all having a civilised conversation and getting along."

The two others laughed with genuine warmth, before the moment passed and left them once more heavy with sadness.

Dayna lay back fully now, the ground cold against her back and the sky open and bright overhead. So many new worlds, places she could only dream of, if only they could escape from here, somehow. Places that their fallen allies would never see.

The only person who could really have helped them process Cally's death was, as Vila pointed out, Cally. She had been a calming presence, especially for Avon. They had lived together, worked alongside one another, dined and fought and talked together for three years, after all. How many quiet conversations in the middle of the night as Cally slowly, patiently worked his heart open? What had occurred between them to build the trust that had, not so long ago, saved Cally's life? And for how much of her absence now would Avon blame himself?

Dayna realised with a sudden rush that her heart ached for him. Something must have been apparent in her face because a moment later, Tarrent's hand was on her arm.

"Dayna?"

She shook her head slowly. "It's nothing. Just... they were close, you know. I don't know how it will be... now... without her."

Tarrant frowned. His eyes followed Avon's path into the darkness, but the shadows yielded no answers.

"It's just us now, then."

They sat, all of them, quiet and awake.


End file.
